Possibility
by themoonlightdragon
Summary: Possibility is a rough, rugged town, especially during a war. And it's especially tough for Coyote, a SandWing dragonet who's been roughing it on the streets for over a year. After a desperate attempt to find food fails, she finds herself in a SandWing orphanage. But Otter, Haze, Ember and Jet might just teach her a few things about survival along the way.


✘ **_Chapter 1: A Failed Attempt_ **✘

It's one of those drizzly gray mornings. I want to disappear into the mist forever. My talon slips into the leather bag around my neck, and I pull a smooth, silky square of cloth out of it. It's a dark forest green color and it shimmers softly in the sunlight.

I hear a scuffling noise and straighten up, stuffing the cloth back into my bag. I whirl around, searching for the source of the noise, but I don't see anything or anyone.

My stomach rumbles with that low, empty ache. I don't know if I can take this much longer. The last time I ate was several weeks ago, and it was only a small coconut. The coconut had taken the last of my money, except for a small golden coin. And that wasn't enough to pay for anything, surely.

I duck my head and hunch my shoulders back. I know how to disappear into the background. I squeeze through a dark alley. Most of the streets are crowded and busy, but this one is empty. Graffiti covers the walls. A large, messy scrawl reads, _SandWings, g_ _o back to the desert where you belong!_

My wings shiver together. The bakery is so close... I can smell warm bread. The smell makes me feel so dizzy, I have to lean against the wall for support. My stomach growls loudly. I brush my talon along the wall, by the word _belong_. How I wish I had a place where I could belong.

I straighten up. Possibility is a rough, rugged town, and I can't afford to be getting all soft and sappy.

I don't know what I'm doing; maybe I'm going insane from hunger. But I'm seized by an urge. Fire is rushing through my veins. My heart is pumping. I rush over to the bakery. Maybe it's my lucky day. The SkyWing shopkeeper is outside the bakery, chatting with a client. He gives me a slight nod as I enter the store.

There it is, glistening on the countertop. Butter spread across the top drips down the side of the loaf. I seize the loaf of bread- it's warm in my talons- and shove it into my leather bag.

My talons feel as if they're on fire as I walk past the shopkeeper. _One, two, three... almost there... four, five... almost there..._ Just one more step, and I'll be out of there.

The shopkeeper's head darts up and he holds up a talon at his client. "Oh, I'm not fooled that easily," he says sharply. His dark orange eyes are narrowed. I flinch at his glare. "Open up your bag, SandWing."

I hesitate, my talons trembling.

"I said _open that bag_!" the SkyWing barks.

I figure the best chance I have is to run for it. I skitter back down the alley, over piles of rubble. I hear rough shouting and a flutter of wings, and they're onto me. It takes about two seconds for the SkyWing shopkeeper to snatch away my bag.

The SkyWing quickly opens it, revealing the bread. It glistens in the sunlight, looking delectable. His client, another SkyWing, holds me back against the wall. I struggle, reaching for the bag and the bread. "Please!" I yell. "Please!"

"I'm sick of all you poor SandWing rascals trying to steal from my shop!" the SkyWing shopkeeper yells."I have a right mind to talk to Thorn about you! Get you in line, she will! How'd you like to spend your night in a prison cell, huh?"

"Please, please," I plead as the SkyWing client's talons bore into the space between my scales. Tears prick in the back of my eyes. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't show weakness._

I shriek and scream, and the SkyWing shopkeeper continues to bellow ugly words. The bread is just beyond my reach, and it looks so appetizing, so appealing. At this point, I don't really care about the bread. I just want to get away from the two SkyWings and their cruel eyes boring into me.

"Let me _go!_ " I shriek. The SkyWing client is holding my tail, preventing me from using my most advantageous weapon. This aggravates me much more than I would have expected. I let out a long, piercing scream. _If only there was someone who would hear it and care._

"Shut up, SandWing," the client snarls, clamping a dark red talon over my mouth.

I'm starting to feel lightheaded, staring at the bread. The ache is bigger than ever. _Why is the room spinning?_ I wonder. The voices of the two SkyWings are growing fainter and farther away.

And then at last. Peace. Black.

...

I'm sitting on the musty floor of the bakery. That's all I can look at because I won't dare looking at the pastries again. I might have another sudden urging and snatch one. This time at least I would have enough sense to shove it straight into my mouth.

"Where do you live?" the SandWing who has come to pick me up asks me. I looked up earlier only long enough to notice that he was tall and burly, with warm tan scales and a kind smile.

"I've been... out and about," I say vaguely.

"Ah," says the burly SandWing, and his face clicks into that understanding, sympathetic look that makes me want to claw it off. "I understand. Another one of those orphans of the war." He turns to the two SkyWings- the shopkeeper, who nods politely, and the client, who is starting to look annoyed.

"I know the place for her," the SandWing says quietly. "I'll take her to the orphanage as soon as possible- get her off your talons."

"I'm not going to no orphanage," I say stiffly.

"Listen," says the SandWing gently. "It'll be so much better than the position you're in now."

My shoulders shake and a voice whispers in the corner of my mind, _Don't show weakness._ I try to steady my breathing unsuccessfully. "Fine," I say finally in a small voice. "Take me there."

"I'm truly very sorry for any inconvenience caused by this little dragonet," says the burly SandWing. I bristle. I'm not _that_ small. He looks at me with his warm eyes. "I think you should apologize..." He pauses, as if waiting for me to tell him my name.

I ignore him, looking down. "I'm sorry," I choke out. I won't look at that horrible shopkeeper. I won't give in.

"Well then," says the SandWing briskly. "Let's go."

...

Four curious faces are staring at me. The first is a large MudWing with kind eyes and a smile not unlike that of the SandWing guard from earlier. His scales are a dark brownish color. I've never talked to a MudWing before. His voice is a low, deep, calming rumble.

"I'm Otter. What's your name?"

I don't respond. Otter tilts his head questioningly, but doesn't press it. "This is Haze," he says instead, inclining his head at a thin SandWing with pale sandy scales. She smiles shyly at me.

My eyes flit down to the floor. These dragons are way too _friendly._ They never would have survived living on scraps here and there like I did. It's almost like they don't immediately hate me.

"I'm Ember," says a small SkyWing quietly. Her scales are a pale husky red that's unusual in SkyWings. Still, I can't help but be reminded of those two SkyWings back at the bakery. "Nice to meet you."

Ember, Haze, and Otter all swivel around to look at the last dragon, a tall, dark red SkyWing. Now I'm really reminded of those shopkeepers. My wings shiver together.

"What, are we doing introductions now?" the dark red SkyWing asks. His eyes are dark and piercing. He shrugs and says with a sigh, "I'm Jet." His voice is closed-off and slightly unfriendly. I immediately like him best because he seems the toughest. Really the only one who _might_ survive in my place.

"Coyote," I whisper to the floor.

"What was that?" the MudWing- Otter- says cheerfully.

"Coyote," I say, my voice stronger, louder.

"Nice to meet you," Otter says, smiling widely. "Are you hungry? We have food."

 _Three moons, yes._ I nod wordlessly, and Otter tosses me some kind of desert bird. I nod slightly, smiling softly up at him. Forgetting all thoughts of not showing weakness, I dive right in. It takes me only a few minutes to devour the entire bird. This is the best meal I've had in at least a year.

"Thank you," I say quietly. I pull my bag close to my chest. Thank the moons I've got it back.

"Wow, your scales are such a pretty color," Haze says, her dark eyes sparkling. "All those sandy gray swirls. It reminds me of... of desert winds," she finishes, ducking her head.

"Oh. Um, thank you." How exactly do you accept a compliment?

Haze looks happy, so I don't worry about it. She and Otter grin at me, and my heart swells. Maybe I'm being weak now. Maybe I've failed. But these dragons are happy, and that's something I haven't been in over a year.

I look around the musty room. _This is your home now._


End file.
